


Scenes from the Broadway Bean

by gleekto



Category: Glee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:51:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5545859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleekto/pseuds/gleekto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coffee shop AU. Kurt and Blaine. New York and a coffee shop.  </p><p>Kurt is a freshman at NYADA - top of his vocal class, stage combat superstar.  He's busy becoming a star, so what if he scores a zero in coffee shop romance history? Or in romance history all together?</p><p>Blaine Anderson is a sophomore at NYADA. Song writer. Performer. Barista. Sworn off boys altogether. Though he really hopes Kurt Hummel will let him buy him a biscotti. What? White chocolate cranberry is seasonal. And delicious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some of these scenes are in Kurt POV, followed by the mirror scene in Blaine POV. Those scenes are marked iii.a. (Kurt) and iii.b. (Blaine), for example.

**i.a. (Kurt)**

**Broadway**

Kurt slumps into the brown leather chair across from Rachel, gratefully accepting the non-fat mocha that she slides across the table to him. The November chill has set in and the Broadway Bean is packed with bustling NYADA students. Even the deliberately named campus cafe prevents any reprieve from the driven, goal-oriented dreams of all its competitive select students. Like it couldn’t just be a ‘Coffee Bean’? And it’s perfect for Kurt. It is. He has the drive and the dream. He just needed the audience. And in two and a half months, he’s top of his vocal and stage combat classes, and has been asked to sing in the winter showcase. He never loses focus.

But sometimes it’s nice to just sit and sip a warm, milky mocha and zone-

“Okay, Kurt. So for the showcase. Should we ask Madame Thibideaux who will be performing first? First has it’s advantages because - “

“Rachel,” Kurt sighs over the cup, “The showcase is in a month. Why don’t we worry about practicing our songs first?”

“But I feel that placement might affect song choice.” She has a point. “ You want to end with an emotional high and-” 

And right now, he just wants a biscotti to dip into his mocha.  Kurt excuses himself and hovers over the glass window, pondering the advantages of a chocolate almond versus vanilla bean. 

“You can’t go wrong with the white chocolate cranberry at this time of year,” A warm voice interrupts from behind the counter. Kurt looks up and sees that Cary Grant-esque second year student from his stage combat class. They’ve never spoken before, but Mr. Grant-wannabe’s maybe intentional or maybe innocent trend-challenging classic wardrobe is hard not to notice. Button downs. Bow ties. Pink plaid. Gelled back black hair. He can only get away with it because he is ridiculously handsome. And Kurt appreciates pop culture fashion defiance. Even if he could totally kick his ass. 

“Oh! Hi. You’re-”

“Blaine-”

“From my-”

“Stage combat class. Yeah,” Blaine pauses,  “I’ve noticed.” Oh. That’s interesting.  He’s noticed. Blaine bites his lower lip and looks down sheepishly and then up again. “And I'm the barista at your service today. What can I get you?” 

“Blaine the barista,” Kurt repeats. 

Kurt, for all his big city dreams, does not have a lot of experience with being an object of coffee shop flirtation. If that’s even what this is. His dreams were far bigger than a romp in the backseat with a Lima loser. And well, dreams have their consequences. Namely, a zero on the coffee shop romance history. “Well, I’ll take you up on your recommendation of white chocolate cranberry. It’s seasonal after all.”

“Seasonal,” Blaine agrees as he plucks the cookie with the silver tongs and places it into a Broadway Bean bag. “And I’ll tell you what, if you don’t like it, next one’s on me. A classic chocolate almond.”

“Mmmm,” Kurt hums. “A timeless choice.”

“Tried and tested. Old fashioned and delicious,” Blaine says with complete sincerity. Definitely innocent. Yet trend-challenging nonetheless.

“Yes.  _I’ve_ noticed.” Kurt mimics and looks Blaine directly in the eyes with as much false confidence as he can manage. He’s an actor, after all. 

When he sits back down, Rachel is plotting songs with scenarios, and a rating scale in order of preference. He nods and smiles and dips the cookie and plots alongside her - chocolate almond, then cappuccino, and only then vanilla if all more adventurous flavours have been exhausted. Spice is important. This is only the beginning.

**i.b. (Blaine)**

**Competition**

The first 16 times that Kurt comes into the Broadway Bean, Blaine doesn’t notice him. The fact that he knows that today is the 17th time notwithstanding. Blaine, in fact, has sworn off boys altogether - after his miscommunication early last year with a college senior who was definitely not interested in him like _that_ , and then going on a date with Sebastian Smythe - business arts student, smart, competitive, and looking for only one thing. And he likes that thing, he does. A lot if he’s totally honest. But he has to believe that it’s all just so much better with someone who likes at least something more than that. Sushi, or Oscar Wilde, or poetry, or _something_ else. So until then, he’s student-by-day, barista-by-night, and totally not interested in getting involved with boys.

So the fact that today is Kurt’s 17th Broadway Bean visit is not noteworthy. He and Kurt are in the same stage combat class. And even though they’ve never so much as said ‘hello’ to each other, it’s natural to recognize classmates at the campus cafe.  Anyways, Kurt’s always here with Rachel Berry, NYADA superstar. They make a powerhouse couple, if that’s what they are. Yes, he suspects Kurt may be gay (I mean, god, it’s NYADA: Confirming the recruitment fears of the religious right one arts-loving boy at a time)  - but he really has no idea.

Today, though, Kurt Hummel is here and they have a moment. Well, not a _moment_ moment. They just meet. Finally. Because amidst the hustle and bustle of the Bean, there is a lull in the line just as Kurt comes up to stare at the cookie window.

“You can’t go wrong with the white chocolate cranberry at this time of year,” Blaine says.  It’s true. They’re delicious.

“Oh! Hi. You’re-” 

“Blaine-”

“From my-”

“Stage combat class. Yeah,” Blaine pauses,  “I’ve noticed.” Okay so maybe he has noticed. But in fairness, Kurt is basically unstoppable in that class. He’s like martial arts trained or something. And he’s always skins. Always. So fine. It’s not a big deal. His abstinence pledge is still in tact.  “And I'm the barista at your service today. What can I get you?”

“Blaine the barista,” Kurt repeats. “Well, I’ll take you up on your recommendation of white chocolate cranberry. It’s seasonal after all.”

“Seasonal,” Blaine agrees as he plucks the cookie with the silver tongs and places it into a Broadway Bean bag. “And I’ll tell you what, if you don’t like it, next one’s on me. A classic chocolate almond.” It’s the polite thing to do, after all.

“Mmmm,” Kurt hums. “A timeless choice.”

“Tried and tested. Old fashioned and delicious.” _Is it too much?_

“Yes. _I’ve_ noticed.” Kurt is looking at him directly in the eyes. _Oh._ Maybe not too much. 

But Blaine knows way better than to read anything into polite banter. He may have been a teenager who dreamed of romance, Valentine’s Day his favorite holiday, but at twenty, he’s older and wiser, and knows better than to make anything up in his head. Kurt is friendly and polite and a ferocious fighter. He steals a glance at him as he slips back into his seat across from Rachel. But let’s be real here - he probably hates romance, is only into sex, god maybe he even hates Katy Perry, or Wham? Blaine doesn’t even know that Kurt’s gay. Blaine shakes his head and takes the warm white cloth to wipe the counter of the biscotti crumbs before moving on to the next customer.

When Kurt and Rachel get up to leave, Rachel comes back over to the counter to order a white chocolate cranberry biscotti. “He’d only give me one bite!” She motions to Kurt who is putting on his backpack and who looks over with a warm and definitely not conspiratorial smile.

“They are delicious,” Blaine says to Rachel looking quickly at Kurt. “So you’re boyfriend wouldn’t even give you half - ” _What?_ Inquiring minds want to know.

“Boyfriend?” Rachel is looking through her purse for her wallet only half paying attention.  “Who? _Kurt?_ My Kurt? Really? He’s gay. Gay as the yuletide. Ha!” She seems pleased with her pun. Blaine is pleased too. “I do believe you need a gaydar upgrade,” She’s teasing him now.  “We went to high school together. He was my only real competition. That is until I saw _you_ sing your solo in vocal studio last week. It’s rare I meet someone who can keep up with me vocally.”

Oh no. Is _that_ flirting? Was _Kurt_ flirting? At least Kurt is gay. But he figures that Rachel is probably not. “That’s very kind, Rachel-” And they _should_ totally sing a duet together.

Rachel seems encouraged. “Maybe we could meet when you’re off work-” Yes. _But not like that._

“Definitely. I hear there’s a Sound of Music Singalong on Friday, or there’s the Tina Turner drag competition at the campus theatre next week,” Blaine responds with the two most obvious activities that come to his mind.

“Oh of course,” Rachel blushes but quickly recovers. Impressive actually.  “You’re-”

“As the Yuletide.”

Rachel claps her hands, apparently unfazed. He definitely likes this girl. “We’ll go with Kurt!”

**ii.**

**The Other Day**

Kurt takes a cleansing breath before entering the Bean. Just an ordinary day and he’s a regular customer. So he made small talk with the barista the other day. So he may have thought the barista, _Blaine_ … _Blaine-the-barista-who-noticed-him-in-their-stage-combat-class,_ was flirting with him over a white chocolate cranberry biscotti. But okay - now he knows better.

According to Rachel, Blaine didn’t even realize he was gay (He thought he was dating Rachel. _Really?_ ). But, also according to Rachel, Blaine actually _is_ gay (’as the yuletide’, Rachel says) - which he admits he kind of figured with the bowties and, you know, the flirting that apparently wasn’t (Because who flirts with a guy there with his girlfriend?). Well, at least Rachel quickly dispelled that idea.

But today is a new day and he can enter and order the chocolate almond biscotti this time. Clean slate. Classic cookie. Delicious barista. Gay. Just a friend. The usual. His usual. The other day was just another day - pretend it didn’t happen. And it _didn’t._ His natural armour.

“Oh hey, Kurt!” Blaine interrupts Kurt’s nonchalant staring at the cookie counter and definitely not at the barista. “How are you?”

“How am I?” Apparently he isn’t great at cool and casual.

“Yeah,” Blaine’s cheeks turn slightly red because really, why should he expect sass when engaging in meaningless small talk? “I mean, hopefully the seasonal biscotti yesterday brightened your mood?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was delicious.” Kurt smiles despite himself.

“Yeah,” Blaine chuckles conspiriatorily. “Your friend, Rachel, had to get her own. Said you’d only give her one bite,” Blaine leans towards him, like a wink without winking. His eyes are warm and sparkly and making way too much direct eye contact for Kurt’s defenses.

“Yes, Rachel.” Kurt waits.

“Your friend.”

“My friend,” _Don’t say it._ “You thought-”

“You and Rachel were-”

“Really?”

“Maybe not _really,_ ” Blaine says.  _Maybe not really._

“I thought maybe-” _You were flirting. And maybe we could have coffee sometime?_ Way too cliche. Blaine works in a coffee shop. Kurt is not good at this.

“Thought what?” Blaine looks at him expectantly.

“That I would have the classic chocolate almond biscotti today?”

“Oh,” Blaine looks down but he quickly recovers. “Of course. Would you like a non-fat mocha with that?”

He remembers. “I would, actually.”

“So _I_ thought maybe-” Blaine echoes.

“Thought what?” Kurt echoes back in his best encouraging and slightly but not too flirty tone.

“You know, that you and Rachel were maybe _not_ actually together-”

“We’re not.”

“No,” Blaine drums his fingers on the counter. “And-”

“And-”

“And that maybe, the other day-we were,” Kurt tries to match Blaine’s eye contact. Blaine appears to be doing all the hard work here - it’s the least he can do. “Well, that maybe I would get to buy you that classic chocolate almond cookie, even if you did like the cranberry one?”

“I did.”

“I know.” Blaine smiles and shakes his head. “So can I buy you this one?” This is definitely flirting, right?

“Yes. I think that would be possible.” And he can now add ‘cute barista buys me a cookie’ to his list of New York City accomplishments. Blaine smiles like he’s just been given a gift.

He watches as Blaine turns to froth the foam at the top of his mocha with the silver foam-making machine. From the back, he can see Blaine’s green plaid Brooks Brothers shirt hidden by his red apron from the front. And he’s wearing it with lovely fitted grey pants. They’re a bit too small. Maybe on purpose.

Kurt’s still stupidly grinning as Blaine hands him the biscotti and mocha. “Thank you.” There must be something else to say like _Can we do this again?,_ or _Is this a sort of date?_ or _See you in stage combat class_ (the height of romance). But instead he nods at Blaine and turns away.

“Kurt?” Blaine calls and he turns back. “The other day?”

“Mmmm?”

“I was flirting.” Kurt bites his lip and nods, smiling quietly as he exits.

The cool fall air hits his face as he unfolds his napkin. There, in blue scrawl, wrapped around his cookie -

_If you like this one, maybe I you'll agree to dinner tomorrow after Stage Combat Class?…Blaine the Barista (555-332-2141)_

He breathes. He doesn’t jump or sing or even call Rachel. Nobody notices that there’s a kink in his armour.

**iii.a. (Blaine)**

**Sweet Escape**

“Have you heard the legend of the Broadway Bean?” Blaine leads Kurt along the busy sidewalk as they exit the Spotlight Diner.  

Kurt had texted him an hour after he had clandestinely asked him out with a scrawled message on a Bean napkin ( _longest hour ever_ ), with a simple ‘So where are we going for dinner tomorrow night?’ And now 27 hours later, he doesn’t want the night to end. 

Things he’s learned about Kurt Hummel in the last two hours - He sews his own clothes, owns his own Sai swords, came to NYADA with his best friend and friendly rival, Rachel Berry, and all three of them are from Lima, Ohio - armpit of the universe, as Kurt called it _(God he has total flare. Can’t you just hear him saying that?_ ). They figured out that they even attended the same Regionals Glee club competition two years ago (Blaine was a senior, Kurt was a junior) but never met. “I remember the Warblers that year,” Kurt said.

“Good things, I hope.” 

“Best arrangement of ‘Raise Your Glass’ I’ve ever heard,” Kurt paused between bites of fettuccine ( _Kurt twirls the noodles. Totally adorable_ ). “And I may have noticed that the lead singer totally rocked that piped uniform.” 

Blaine blushed. “Guys in uniform?” 

“Mmmm. Maybe just that guy.” Kurt blushed too and looked away for a second before they quickly changed topics to Kurt’s earnest yet misguided Glee club teacher. And while this may just be ‘what people do on dates’, he’s only ever been out with Sebastian Smythe, who definitely was not a silly romantic. It was the flirtiest Blaine has ever been. It feels so good. He’s just not ready for it to end yet.

“The legend of the Broadway Bean?” Kurt side eyes him as they duck the crowds on the avenue.  

Blaine stage whispers, “They say that if you sneak in at night after closing, the ghosts of Broadway greats can be heard singing by the counter.”

“Is this a way to convince me to have dessert with you? Because you could just ask,” Kurt looks at him skeptically.

Blaine laughs, “Only sort of-” He has a moment of courage and grabs Kurt’s hand to navigate them through the post-theatre crowd and into the alley with the backdoor to the closed coffee shop. “Luckily, I have the passcode. And permission to go inside. Dessert?” Blaine asks, still holding Kurt’s hand, entering the code with the other. Kurt doesn’t let go either. 

“The Broadway Bean after dark?”

“I can whip up a mean hot chocolate. With a cappuccino biscotti for dipping?”

...

Ten minutes later, Kurt is sitting at a high stool at the empty counter, sipping the whipped cream off the top of his hot chocolate. Blaine’s hands are wrapped around his own mug, and he’s leaning over the counter facing Kurt, as the sound of Patti Lupone’s iconic ‘I Dreamed A Dream’ begins and seeps through the otherwise silent cafe.

Kurt’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “You weren’t kidding - Broadway legends _can_ be heard.” 

“Only at the Bean after dark,” Blaine laughs at himself and his detailed plan to bring the CD in his jacket pocket. And Kurt is definitely amused. It always pays to be prepared.  

Blaine looks down at his mug to avoid looking at Kurt’s lips, now tinged with chocolate dust. He really wants to kiss him. _Obviously_. The pause is too long. “I really liked-” Blaine’s fingers tug gently at Kurt’s who turns his hand over and tugs back.

“Me too,” Kurt blushes and looks down at their pile of half clasped fingers. “Patti Lupone is alive, you know?” Kurt turns back to him and sort of giggles. Tension broken. Almost.

“I hope I know or I would be a theatre student impostor.”

“Ahh so you meant the spirit of even living Broadway greats play from the speakers of the Broadway Bean after dark,” Kurt smiles shyly. “It’s a nice legend.”

“I may have made the legend part up.” 

“Well, points for creativity. You’re quite the gentleman for setting up this sweet escape from the plebeians out there in the crowds. ”

Blaine’s breath shakes but Kurt’s eyes are happy-droopy with the warmth of the Bean and the rich hot chocolate and the conversation flows and they’re holding hands and he just really really wants to - “So I may not be that much of a gentleman because I may have been thinking about kissing you goodnight somewhere less umm,” Blaine’s heart is thumping, “public.”

“Oh,” Kurt’s eyes widen with surprise but they’re warm and he’s nodding his head and the energy between them is crackling.  Kurt bites his lip. “But-”   _Too soon?_ He doesn’t think so but maybe -  “No. Don’t look worried,” Kurt re-assuring him. Oh god.  “I’ve just never-”. _Oh. Wow._

“Never?”

Kurt holds his chin up and Blaine sees pride. And defiance. “McKinley High is not exactly a breeding ground for hot, eligible gay boys,” Kurt  sasses but then turns softer. “Besides, I was waiting until I wanted to.” Kurt’s eyes are searing blue. He’s beautiful.

“And now?” Blaine feels Kurt’s fingers squeeze tighter around his.

“I want to.” _He wants to._

Before Blaine has a chance to process the moment, Kurt is leaning in and kissing _him_. Kurt’s lips are gentle and sweet and searching before they break apart and smile and blush and smile. “Counter’s kind of in the way.” Kurt shakes his head.

“Come over here,” Blaine tugs at Kurt’s hand as Kurt hops off the stool and Blaine leads him around to the barista side of the counter. Blaine pulls him into his personal space. Kurt is taller than him. Broader than him. His arms are defined and big and are wrapped around him right now. His body feels so good that he doesn’t really know what to do. So he laughs. And Kurt laughs. 

“Why are you laughing?” Kurt asks. Reasonable question.

“I don’t know. I’m happy. Why are you laughing?”

“You kiss like a gentleman.”

“Really?” Blaine raises his eyebrows. He knows a challenge when he sees one. “Oh I can definitely fix that.” Wrapped in Kurt’s body, it’s easy to guide him, lips and teeth and tongues. Blaine kisses along his neck, breathing in his salty white skin, moving back to his mouth and he waits for Kurt to mirror him. It may be Kurt’s first time making out with a boy in a coffee shop after dark but Kurt is strong and certain and willing. 

“I like your stubble,” Kurt breathes as his teeth trace along Blaine’s jawline. 

“I shaved. I promise. I can’t help it.”

“Oh I know,” Kurt’s tongue is on his neck, pausing there like he wants to feel the sandpaper soft of his now later than five o’clock shadow. “I told you, I like it.”

Blaine moans and leans back on to the counter. He closes his eyes, tilts his head back so Kurt can keep doing exactly what he’s doing.  “I think I’m melting.”

Kurt’s mouth is behind his ear and he’s pretty sure that he hears him whisper, “I always liked the wicked witch,” before he kisses him again.

...

When he finally drops Kurt off at his apartment (Kurt is sure Rachel waited up. Blaine has only spoken to Rachel a couple of times, but he guesses that Kurt is probably right), he has to ask. “So - how was it?”

“Are you fishing, Blaine? Because I’m pretty sure we both had a great time tonight.”

“No! I promise. I’m not. And yes. Such a great time,” Blaine turns and smiles at him, taking both his hands. “I’ve just never been someone’s first kiss before.”

“Ah, I see.”

“So?”

Kurt nods with a wry look, “Legendary.”

**iii.b. (Kurt)**

**Stuck Between the Moon and NYC**

Kurt reluctantly steps out of the Spotlight Diner into the post-theatre evening crowd. Their dinner was perfect and easy and he’s trying to figure out how to prolong the night for even a few more minutes. But they’re leaving the restaurant and the obvious thing is to walk to the subway and part ways. He considers inviting Blaine back to his place -  but that would give the totally wrong impression. He hasn’t even kissed a boy. And besides, he is sure that Rachel is waiting up for him and there is no question that tonight, three is a crowd.  He sighs as he follows close to Blaine on the sidewalk.

“Have you heard the legend of the Broadway Bean?” Blaine asks conspiratorially, walking them past the subway entrance towards campus.

“The legend of the Broadway Bean?” _Really?_ Kurt side eyes him as they duck the crowds on the avenue.  

Blaine stage whispers, “They say that if you sneak in at night after closing, the ghosts of Broadway greats can be heard singing by the counter.”

There is no question that Kurt has absolutely not heard any ‘legend’ of the recently opened coffee shop, but if this is a way to continue the date, he definitely wants to hear it now. “Is this a way to convince me to have dessert with you? Because you could just ask,” Kurt looks at him skeptically.

Blaine laughs, “Only sort of.” Then Blaine takes his hand. _Oh._ And they are holding hands on the streets of New York in the moonlight. And yes, maybe the initial purpose was to guide them through and off the busy street and into the alley by the back door of the Bean, but they’re there now, and the crowds are gone but the handholding isn’t. “Luckily, I have the passcode. And permission to go inside. Dessert?” Blaine asks. Blaine even unlocks the code with his other hand. Kurt wants to think it’s because Blaine doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want to let go. 

“The Broadway Bean after dark?”

“I can whip up a mean hot chocolate. With a cappuccino biscotti for dipping?”

...

Ten minutes later, Kurt sits at a high stool at the empty counter and sips the whipped cream off the top of his expertly prepared milky hot chocolate. Blaine is standing on the other side of the counter, looking warm and handsome in his grey on grey outfit, hugging his own cup and smiling. They could be a Christmas card moment. 

That’s when the sound of Patti Lupone’s powerful voice begins filling the otherwise quiet cafe. Looks like the spirits of Broadway do want to chaperone their date after all. “You weren’t kidding - Broadway legends _can_ be heard.”

“Only at the Bean after dark,” Blaine laughs and Kurt just shakes his head in disbelief that he’s on a date with Blaine Anderson. Blaine, whom he now knows was the sexy lead Warbler in his school’s rival Glee club, and is also a NYADA sophomore, and an ever attentive barista of personalized warm drinks. With bonus clever accompanying music. 

In the last few hours, he’s learned that Blaine transferred to Dalton Academy when he was bullied at a public school dance. He learned that he went to that dance with the only other out guy he knew in Lima, but that they weren’t boyfriends. “I may have had a thing - if you can call it that - with Sebastian Smythe last year at NYADA,” Blaine played with the croutons in his grilled chicken salad,  “But I’ve never really been anybody’s boyfriend,” Blaine confessed to him quietly. 

“Me neither.” They both blushed and looked away, Kurt willing his mind away from any hopeful thoughts of ‘maybe soon...’.   Just because they both love Sondheim ( _meaningless - they go to musical theatre school. All of them love Sondheim_ ), candy pop music ( _But Blaine likes Katy Perry more than Lady Gaga - practically a deal breaker)_ , reality television ( _He does admit that their mutual love-hate relationship with Treme is intriguing_ ), and Christmas movie classics, doesn’t mean they are destined for happily ever after. They have so many things in common - aren’t opposites supposed to attract? And he’s totally ignoring the studies from his social psychology lecture that disprove that one - birds of a feather stick together, they say.  He knows better than to test the glue before it even dries. But he’s going to enjoy the moment, anyways. There’s hot chocolate with whipped cream, Patti Lupone, and a very striking barista who is variously looking at him like _that_  or turning away and blushing. Who cares if the pause is too long? He likes making someone blush. 

“I really liked-” Blaine breaks the pause and his fingers tug gently at Kurt’s.   Kurt turns his hand over and tugs back.

“Me too,” Kurt blushes and looks down at their pile of half clasped fingers. Blaine’s hand is warm and a little shaky. So is his. 

The space between them feels heavy with whatever is happening. What _is_  happening? Should he kiss him? God no, he doesn’t even know how. “Patti Lupone is alive, you know?” is what comes out. An obvious segue. Kurt giggles out of self preservation because _why did he just say that?_

“I hope I know or I would be a theatre student impostor.”

“Ahh so you meant the spirit of even living Broadway greats play from the speakers of the Broadway Bean after dark,” Kurt smiles shyly. “It’s a nice legend.” 

“I may have made the legend part up.”

“Well, points for creativity. You’re quite the gentleman for setting up this sweet escape from the plebeians out there in the crowds.” Blaine _is_ a gentleman. The wardrobe is, in fact, completely unironic. He holds open doors, sprinkles chocolate dust on whipped cream, pulls out bar stools, and even plans out the music. Apparently, chivalry is not dead. And topped with a grey bowtie, it is ridiculously attractive. Kurt’s eyes crinkle at the warmth and Blaine blushes at the compliment.

“So I may not be _that_ much of a gentleman because I may have been thinking about kissing you goodnight somewhere less umm,” _Blaine wants to kiss him,_ “Public.”

“Oh,” Kurt’s eyes widen with surprise but he nods his head because he wants to. So much. Kurt bites his lip. “But-” He also wants him to know. “No. Don’t look worried,” Kurt braces himself, “I’ve just never-”. _Been kissed._

_“Never?”  
_

Kurt holds his chin up. “McKinley High is not exactly a breeding ground for hot, eligible gay boys,” Kurt knows he’s defensive but there are worse things than waiting until it's the right place at the right time, “Besides, I was waiting until I wanted to.” Blaine is looking at him directly in the eyes. Blaine’s eyes are warm and hazel and beautiful and he doesn’t seem to be running away. 

“And now?” Blaine asks and Kurt squeezes Blaine’s hand softly. 

“I want to.” So he does. He leans over the counter and kisses Blaine’s mouth. His lips taste the cinnamon on Blaine’s and Blaine is kissing him back softly. So sweet. “Counter’s kind of in the way.” Kurt breaks the kiss.

“Come over here,” Blaine tugs at Kurt’s hand as Kurt hops off the stool and Blaine leads him around to the barista side of the counter and into Blaine’s arms. He’s bigger than Blaine and broader. He holds him close to his body, so close he can feel the muscles moving in Blaine’s back as he breathes. He wants to kiss him again but Blaine shakes his head and laughs.  And Kurt laughs.

“Why are you laughing?” Kurt asks, biting his lip.

“I don’t know. I’m happy. Why are you laughing?”

“You kiss like a gentleman.” Because he has been waiting and wanting and right now there is too much talking. And despite the 1950′s chivalry, he’s pretty sure that Blaine wants him too. 

“Really?” Blaine raises his eyebrows.  “Oh I can definitely fix that.” Challenge accepted. Blaine cups his face with his hands  - even when it’s hot, like _hot_ hot, Blaine’s romantic. And Blaine kisses him slowly, tracing his lips with his fingers, then his tongue. Kurt opens his mouth, touches Blaine’s face, lets the kiss get deeper and follows Blaine’s easy lead of lips and teeth. 

Blaine kisses along his neck, and he wants to try too. So much olive skin. And Blaine has a five o’clock shadow,. “I like your stubble,” Kurt breathes as his teeth scrape along Blaine’s jawline. 

“I shaved. I promise. I can’t help it.”

“Oh I know,” He’s not sure where his boldness is coming from but Blaine is loose and sighing in his arms and tastes like salt and skin and guy and that’s how he feels. Powerful.  “I told you, I like it.”

Blaine moans and leans back on to the counter. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back. “I think I’m melting.”

Kurt’s mouth is behind Blaine’s ear and he whispers, “I always liked the wicked witch,” before he kisses him again. 

...

When they finally arrive at Kurt’s apartment, Blaine turns to him, suddenly nervous again. “So - how was it?”

“Are you fishing, Blaine? Because I’m pretty sure we both had a great time tonight.”

“No! I promise. I’m not. And yes. Such a great time,” Blaine turns and smiles at him, taking both his hands. “I’ve just never been someone’s first kiss before.”

“Ah, I see.”

“So?”

Kurt nods with a wry look, “Legendary.” 

Kurt pecks him quickly on the mouth and turns to enter his building. Then reconsidering, he turns back.“No wait. That’s not true.”  Blaine looks at him quizzically. “First kiss? _Gentleman_ ,” Blaine looks at the sky and laughs. “Number two, though, that was _hot_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**iv.a. (Kurt)**

**Passion**

Ugh, passion. The demise of all things. Especially when mixed with peach and citrus bottomless sangria.

It had been a lovely and romantic two weeks of coffee dates and texting and late night phone conversations and yes, even a couple of less than chaste make outs. The connection between them was building. It was organic. 

But now. After last night. They had sex.

And after leaving Blaine’s apartment at 2am with a bottle of water, two advil, and a half buttoned wrinkled shirt, Kurt is filled with uncertainty as he contemplates skipping his daily trip to the Broadway Bean. He knows why they call it the walk of shame.

The only reason he doesn’t abandon his daily routine in favour of hiding behind his music history textbook in the library is that Rachel would start asking questions - “ _Is something wrong? Did you break up?_ (We’ve only been dating two weeks, Rachel. There’s not much to break) _What happened last night, Kurt? Oh god, he didn’t pressure you, did he?_ ”. And Rachel’s questions are arguably more mortifying than having to face Blaine. And no. Blaine definitely didn’t pressure him. He was an eager and more than willing participant. And no. He is definitely not talking to Rachel about this right now.

“I’ll get our coffees,” He says to Rachel as they drop their bags at their usual table. Blaine’s back is turned, probably frothing a cappuccino, and he’d rather face him alone than engage in Rachel-led musical theatre small talk like yesterday. Though maybe Blaine thinks everything’s the same. No big deal. That might be even worse.

“Hey,” He says to Blaine’s back and Blaine startles.

“Oh hey!” Blaine's mouth is smiling but his eyes aren’t sure. “I wasn’t sure if you-”

“If I what? Would want a coffee-” It comes out harsher than he means it. 

“No. I mean of course. A coffee. Just because we-”

“What?”

“Were, you know, up late. I thought maybe you’d skip-”

“I’m fine,” He’s fine. Blaine is looking at him, like he’s waiting for an answer. Or at least a question. “So a non-fat mocha and a caramel latte for Rachel?” There’s his question. The usual. Ordinary day.

“Yes, of course. Coming up,” Blaine waits another second before preparing the drinks. The line is growing behind him. He sighs as he waits. 

So maybe it was nothing to Blaine. Just a late night. Blaine slept with Sebastian a few times after their failed date. His and Blaine’s late night conversations had gotten connected enough that Blaine had at least told him that much.  Failed because Blaine likes romance and Sebastian isn’t that guy. Not because they weren’t attracted to each other. They were. And Blaine liked the benefits of ‘friends with benefits.’ But Kurt _isn’t_ that guy. Except last night, he apparently was. His body wanted something, his inhibitions gone, and he went for it. Or to it. Or something. And the next thing he knew, he and Blaine were naked, in Blaine’s bed, clothes piled on the floor, his body sticky and wet with Blaine gently trying to clean him up with the tissues from the night table. Which was maybe very sweet. But god, what a mess.

The hardest part to deal with is that it was good. Maybe even really good. There appears to be a benefit to being with someone who knows what he’s doing because Blaine’s hands seemed to have an instinct for what he wanted. He remembers drowning in just the feeling of Blaine’s hands and mouth on his shirtless skin. Teeth on his chest, on his nipples and he was so turned on and sufficiently free of good judgement that he grabbed Blaine’s leg between his thighs and just let himself move. Whatever feels good. Who cares about propriety? Who cares about his jeans? (That alone tells you he had been drinking). And god, he’s sure the sounds he was making were obscene. Panting and friction and Blaine laughing and shushing him gently, “Hold on, Kurt. Not like this. Not with clothes on. Let me at least-” Blaine popped the button on his jeans and he remembers him looking right in his eyes. “I want it to feel good for you-”

“Yes, Blaine. Yes, I want - please.” 

“Okay.” He watched Blaine undress through hazy eyes and he pulled off his own jeans and let Blaine do the rest. The details are fuzzy but the feeling is not - Bodies and hands and both so hard against each other. Rolling and coming together and kissing and kissing and kissing. High and connected.

And then...really, really sticky. They’ve only been dating for two weeks. He’s never done this before. 

“Here’s the latte,” Blaine turns to get the mocha. “Kurt, is everything-”

“I’m fine,” He says again. So fine. 

“Okay,” Blaine sighs and hands him his cup. Kurt quickly goes to sit down across from Rachel. He faced him. That’s it. He slumps down in his chair.

Rachel’s eyebrows suddenly jump - “Oh my god, Kurt! He drew a heart in your foam! Awww - that is so sweet! Look at that, coffee art. Just for you.”

Look at that. A coffee art heart on his mocha foam. He looks up and Blaine is smiling at him hopefully. Of course he smiles back. There’s a heart in his coffee. His eyes sting at the corners. This is ridiculous. What is wrong with him?

When they finish their drinks, Kurt puts on his coat and excuses himself to approach the cookie counter before leaving, “I owe you a thank you.”

“For what?”

“My mocha’s foam was lovely.”

“You’re welcome,” Blaine pauses. “I meant-” He looks down and then quickly, “Kurt, I’m on break in five minutes. Can you wait and we can talk?” Oh.

“I have music history.”

“Vanilla biscotti on me if you skip,” Blaine’s playing hardball.

“Okay.”

...

Ten minutes later, they’re sitting at the quietest corner table, Kurt with a biscotti dipped into a second carefully prepared mocha-with-heart.

“I’m going to be buzzing all day from all this caffeine,” Kurt warns as he takes another sip. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Like last night?” 

“What?” It isn’t much of a segue but why should Blaine beat around the bush? Just get it out.

“Kurt,” Blaine bites his lip, and looks up at the ceiling.

Kurt knows how things go when there’s too much too soon. He closes his eyes. “Please just don’t say anything I don’t want to hear right now, okay? I’m too exhausted.”

“What?” Blaine looks back at him in surprise. “No. No. Wait. What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. It happened.”

“It did.”

“I was drinking,” Kurt says which isn’t much of a revelation.

“Yeah,” Blaine chuckles, “I mean. So was I. It happens.”

“So that’s _it._ It happens.” Kurt mimics defensively. 

“No. God. I’m trying not to say the wrong thing here-” Blaine looks at his hands. Maybe his answer is there.

“Don’t try too hard.”

“Just stop, Kurt. Hold on,” Blaine takes a deep breath. “Yes, I know we were drinking. But I, at least, was all there. And I’m pretty sure you were too-”

“Maybe just a little less inhibited-”

“Yes. Exactly,” Blaine seems relieved. And then Blaine takes his hand from across the table. He lets him. It feels nice. “And maybe I’m totally off base, but I thought it was good. But you looked so unhappy this morning when you came in, I just-”

“I’ve never done it before.”

“I know that. I didn’t forget.”

“I know. I just-” Damn why are his eyes stinging again? And why is Blaine softly squeezing his hand because that is only making it worse. Ugh. “We’ve only been dating for two weeks.”

“True.”

“And I thought we were taking things slowly. Getting to know each other. You know, Blaine, all those Hallmark truisms that start off any lasting _relationship_. Yes, I said it. The ‘r’  word.” Kurt will always be thankful for sarcasm’s armour.

“We were. I mean we _are_. Anyways, I like the ‘r’ word. You know that.”

“Yes, well. Not being a born again Christian who believes in born again virginity, pretty sure I can’t just put on a chastity belt and pretend it didn’t happen.”

“That would be unfortunate,” Blaine bites back a laugh. This is a serious conversation. “Waste of talent,” Blaine tries.

“Talent?”

“You were pretty amazing,”Now Blaine is flirting. Great. 

“Don’t indulge me.”

“It’s true,” Blaine pauses. “I’m not indulging you. At all. But actually, what I want to know is did _you_ think it was good? Because from the way you looked this morning-”

“Yes. I mean, yes. When I think about it now, it was good,” Kurt grins despite himself, “Even _very_ good.” And that’s all he can say. He can see the relief on Blaine’s face. His features soften. Blaine wears his heart on his sleeve. “I was just sort of shell shocked.” Blaine’s holding his hand and waiting and listening and not pressing and not going anywhere. Okay. “I didn’t expect to-”

“Me neither.  I promise that there was no ulterior motive to ‘Blaine and Sam’s _Sing!_ night watch and drinking game’. I think Mr. Seusster really does just give that much misplaced advice.”

“Yeah. Maybe next time the rule should be to drink whenever that gay couple kiss - we’d get way less drunk.”

“Ha! True. Though I think last night _we_  maybe more than made up for it,” Blaine teases. _Are things okay?_ Maybe.

“Yeah,” Kurt sighs in agreement, “Kurt Hummel and too much sangria - way too naughty for PG-13 TV.” He drops his head down. _God, what was he doing last night?_

Blaine’s eyes catch Kurt’s looking down, “I admit that I didn’t really mind.”

“What? That I threw myself at you with bad alcohol breath and barely even got my jeans off.”

“I knew you weren’t that drunk.”

“Huh?”

“You remember it all.” _Oh_. He does. “And I think the throwing was mutual. And your breath was delicious. It was fruity. I make very good sangria.”

Kurt laughs but he’s not done pouting yet. “Okay. It was mutual throwing, two weeks into our Victorian courting. Throwing _everything_ off schedule,” Kurt huffs crossing his arms. He is definitely not admitting that he is feeling significantly better. 

Blaine laughs this time and shakes his head. “I know it was your first time, Kurt.”

“It was.”

“It was sooner than you wanted it to be?”

“Yes,” Kurt pauses because apparently, there is a ‘but’ “But, I was more just not wanting it to be like Sebastian.” Blaine looks confused.  _“_ Who needs romance when there is drunken sex _anywhere_?”

“ _I_ need romance,” Blaine is giving him a total _‘come on_ ,’ look and he can admit he’s fishing but he’s allowed. He had sex last night. “Remember how I stopped sleeping with Sebastian because that’s all it was?”

“Yeah,” Kurt sighs. “I remember. And last night?”

Blaine shivers. Kurt sees it. Blaine blushes and laughs. “Sorry. I’m remembering. I really wanted to make you feel good, Kurt.”

“You did.” He did. So good.

“I want to do it again,” Blaine answers. “And again and again and again, if you want to.”

“Maybe I want to.”

“Okay. I’ll take it.” Blaine’s eyes are crinkle-smiling and Kurt takes Blaine’s other hand. They’re staring at each other, goofy faces and dopey eyes. Kurt is relieved and happy and ready to go home and maybe re-visit some of those sensory memories without the baggage of the morning shell shock. He’s about to get up when Blaine pulls him back down. “So I propose an evening with a little less company, a lot less alcohol, candlelight dinner, sleepover?”

 Ohhh. Blaine has good ideas. “But still the naked thing?” Kurt is sure that all his false boldness comes from knowing he can make Blaine blush like that. 

“Yeah, still the naked thing.” Then Blaine leans over and whispers, “And maybe a blowjob if you’ll let me this time.” Kurt’s jaw drops and  he unconsciously checks to make sure nobody is around who could possibly have heard that. Though he’s pretty sure they can see that his cheeks are a deep, unnatural purple. Blaine takes the hand he’s holding, brings Kurt’s index finger to his lips. Pulls the tip into his mouth. Pure innocence. You’d never know. 

“Bastard.” 

“I’m teasing.”

“You can’t make an offer like that then take it back.”

“Oh no. The offer still stands. No pressure. Whenever you’re ready.” Kurt looks at Blaine sitting there, saucy and smiling in his apron, offering him whatever he wants - sexy or romantic or both. Blaine wants to do this with him - again and again and again. 

“I am.” Apparently, underneath all that fear, is the biggest surprise of all.

**iv.b. (Blaine)**

**Ask Me Again**

Pour the coffee. Froth the milk. Sprinkle cinnamon. “ _Thank you so much. Have a nice day.”_ Pour the coffee. Froth the milk. Sprinkle cinnamon. Repeat.

Blaine is relying on the rote actions of the early morning coffee shop routine to distract him. He’s not hungover, not really.  Two glasses of water before bed and a double espresso this morning have done the trick. And he really wasn’t that drunk anyways. Buzzed. But mostly high on adrenaline - yes, the rushing hormone kind, but also just the feelings kind. Overwhelmed.

He’d pretty much been pinching himself repeatedly in the two weeks since he and Kurt had kissed, but he admits that when their stage combat professor had asked Kurt to demonstrate the lesson in front of the class yesterday, the hot blooded, no-longer-teenaged-boy in him had to take a cold shower. Kurt is hot. And always skins. Easily an object of fantasy of every gay guy at NYADA. When Blaine had whispered to him on the phone late one night that in combat class he seems like a gratuitously shirtless hot action movie hero, Kurt had giggled and told him that there isn’t a person in his high school who would believe he would ever be a sex symbol. Or in a combat movie. Clearly they didn’t get to know him very well.

But he wants to. And he is. And though he’s let Kurt become the sex symbol of his own fantasies, he really did not expect that the reality would happen last night. Not yet, anyways. Kurt hadn’t been with anyone before. He wasn’t sure Kurt was even thinking about it yet (though he was, if only to say to himself that Kurt would let him know when he was ready). But before he even realized where it was going, a tipsy shirtless Kurt was moving against him like _that_ , loose and moaning and so incredibly sexy. Kurt wanted him. He wanted Kurt. And even though it was a little rushed and a little sloppy and a little over too soon - it was amazing. For him. And he’s pretty sure that Kurt was feeling the same way. 

Until he left. Very quickly. Too quickly. But 2am is not a good time to analyse whether Kurt freaked out. Too much, too soon - it’s easy to freak out for anyone. Too much, too soon, never done it before - it’s almost a guarantee. And he realizes that even though it wasn’t too much for him, it may have been for Kurt.

Pour the coffee. Froth the milk. Pour the -

“Hey,” Kurt’s voice startles him out of his routine.

“Oh hey!” He turns around and does his best to smile but he feels unsure. Kurt’s face is definitely unsure. Ugh _day-after-the-night-before_ is not a good feeling. “I wasn’t sure if you-”

“If I what? Would want a coffee.”  Kurt answers icily. Blaine winces.

“No. I mean of course. A coffee. Just because we-”

“What?”

“Were, you know, up late. I thought maybe you’d skip-”

“I’m fine.” Blaine looks at Kurt like he’s waiting for an answer. Or at least a question. Because for all Blaine’s limited relationship experience, Kurt Hummel is definitely not fine. Though he clearly wants to pretend he is. “So a non-fat mocha and a caramel latte for Rachel?” Okay then, Kurt.  The usual. Just an ordinary day.

“Yes, of course. Coming up,” Blaine waits another second before preparing the drinks. The line is growing behind Kurt and he clearly can’t talk to him right now. But he isn’t going to let him leave pretending nothing happened last night.

“Here’s the latte,” Blaine turns to get the mocha. “Kurt, is everything-”

“I’m fine,” Kurt says again. _No, you’re not. We had sex last night and you’re freaking out._ But this isn’t the time.

“Okay,” Blaine sighs and hands him his cup. Kurt quickly goes to sit down across from Rachel.

Well, he had to do _something_ to get his attention. Blaine waits and then Kurt’s eyes, defrosted and warmer, smile up at him from over his cup. Finally, a use for his coffee art talent. Hopefully, his coffee art heart in Kurt’s mocha was the right level of ‘I like you and want to talk to you’ gesture - and not way over the top. He may be prone to cheesy gestures - he did make up a Broadway Bean legend just to prolong their first date, after all - but this morning, he’s being careful. The ice is thin.

Kurt at least does approach him at the cookie counter before leaving, “I owe you a thank you.”

“For what?”

“My mocha’s foam was lovely.”

“You’re welcome,” Blaine pauses. “I meant-” He looks down and then quickly, “Kurt, I’m on break in five minutes. Can you wait and we can talk?”

“I have music history.”

“Vanilla biscotti on me if you skip,” Gotta pull out all the stops.

“Okay.”

...

Ten minutes later, they’re sitting at the quietest corner table, Kurt with a biscotti dipped into a second carefully prepared mocha-with-heart.

“I’m going to be buzzing all day from all this caffeine,” Kurt warns as he takes another sip. “You’ll be the death of me.”

 _Well, you’re already the death of me._ “Like last night?” Might as well cut to the chase.

“What?”

“Kurt,” Blaine bites his lip, and looks up at the ceiling. He wonders exactly what the right words are for _I like you. I want this. I loved last night. I can wait for more. Or not wait. Whatever you want._

But before he can get any words out, Kurt says, “Please just don’t say anything I don’t want to hear right now, okay? I’m too exhausted.”

“What?” Blaine looks back at him in surprise. “No. No. Wait. What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. It happened.”

“It did.”

“I was drinking,” Kurt says which isn’t much of a revelation.

“Yeah,” Blaine chuckles, “I mean. So was I. It happens.”

“So that’s _it._ It happens.” Kurt mimics defensively. _Oh_. Kurt thinks it didn’t matter to him _._ Which couldn’t be further from the truth. If anything, any previous sexual experience pales in comparison to watching Kurt Hummel, beneath him, eyes closed, moaning his name. He can’t get the image out of his head. 

“No. God. I’m trying not to say the wrong thing here-” Blaine looks at his hands.

“Don’t try too hard.”

“Just stop, Kurt. Hold on,” Blaine takes a deep breath. He’s a good talker - He is going to get this out somehow. “Yes, I know we were drinking. But I, at least, was all there. And I’m pretty sure you were too-”

“Maybe just a little less inhibited-”

“Yes. Exactly.”  Blaine is relieved. His judgement may have been slightly clouded last night, but he was far more intoxicated from Kurt wanting him, his desire so loose, than from any alcohol he drank. 

He takes Kurt’s hand from across the table. Kurt lets him. Okay. “And maybe I’m totally off base,” He continues, “But I thought it was good. But you looked so unhappy this morning when you came in, I just-”

“I’ve never done it before.”

“I know that. I didn’t forget.” He really didn’t. Even in the moment. Kurt was going there no matter what  - jeans on and all, and that’s why he asked if he could take their jeans off. Make it something between them. Something connected.

“I know. I just-” Kurt’s eyes get shiny.  He squeezes Kurt’s hand.  “We’ve only been dating for two weeks.”

“True.”

“And I thought we were taking things slowly. Getting to know each other. You know, Blaine, all those Hallmark truisms that start off any lasting _relationship_. Yes, I said it. The ‘r’  word.” 

Blaine knew it might be too much, too soon. But it doesn’t scare him. He wants this. “We were. I mean we _are_. Anyways, I like the ‘r’ word. You know that.”

“Yes, well. Not being a born again Christian who believes in born again virginity, pretty sure I can’t just put on a chastity belt and pretend it didn’t happen.”

“That would be unfortunate,” Blaine bites back a laugh. This is a serious conversation. But Kurt’s ice is melting. “Waste of talent,” Blaine tries.

“Talent?”

“You were pretty amazing.” So amazing. God the memory of Kurt arched and panting. And then Kurt opened his eyes to watch him come. The connection makes him shiver.

“Don’t indulge me.”

“It’s true.” _Understatement._ “I’m not indulging you. At all. But actually, what I want to know is did _you_ think it was good? Because from the way you looked this morning-”

“Yes. I mean, yes. When I think about it now, it was good,” Kurt grins despite himself, “Even _very_ good.” Blaine sees the twinkle of mischief in Kurt’s face and he breathes out the fear he’s had all morning. “I was just sort of shell shocked.” Blaine holds his hand and hopes it’s enough to say _No problem. I like you. Let’s do this._ “I didn’t expect to-”

“Me neither.” He really didn’t. In fact, he was pretty sure he and his own hand would be picturing kick ass Kurt from combat class after their gathering that night, not that he would have him naked in his bed. “I promise that there was no ulterior motive to ‘Blaine and Sam’s _Sing!_ night watch and drinking game’. I think Mr. Seusster really does just give that much misplaced advice.”

“Yeah. Maybe next time the rule should be to drink whenever that gay couple kiss - we’d get way less drunk.”

“Ha! True. Though I think last night _we_ maybe more than made up for it,” Blaine teases. _Are things okay?_ Getting there.

“Yeah,” Kurt sighs in agreement, “Kurt Hummel and too much sangria - way too naughty for PG-13 TV.” Kurt drops his head down.  There’s this idiosyncrasy about Kurt - innocently describing himself. No idea how hot he is.

Blaine’s eyes catch Kurt’s looking down, “I admit that I didn’t really mind.”

“What? That I threw myself at you with bad alcohol breath and barely even got my jeans off.”

Blaine claps his free hand on the table, “I knew you weren’t that drunk.”

“Huh?”

“You remember it all.” Even the jeans that almost did not make it off. “And I think the throwing was mutual. And your breath was delicious. It was fruity. I make very good sangria.”

Kurt laughs but he’s still pouting.  Adorable now that the tension is broken. “Okay. It was mutual throwing, two weeks into our Victorian courting. Throwing _everything_ off schedule,” Kurt huffs crossing his arms. _Courting._ He loves courting Kurt Hummel.

Blaine laughs this time and shakes his head. “I know it was your first time, Kurt.”

“It was,” Kurt seems to be thinking about it now. Blaine sees a tiny smile.

“It was sooner than you wanted it to be?”

“Yes,” Kurt pauses because apparently, there is a ‘but’ “But, I was more just not wanting it to be like Sebastian.” Blaine is confused. Mostly because he almost said _‘Sebastian who?_ ’ His tunnel vision is so all encompassing. _“_ Who needs romance when there is drunken sex _anywhere_?”

“ _I_ need romance,” Blaine answers. They have definitely been through this. “Remember how I stopped sleeping with Sebastian because that’s all it was?”

“Yeah,” Kurt sighs. “I remember. And last night?”

Blaine shivers. Kurt sees it. Blaine blushes and laughs. “Sorry. I’m remembering. I really wanted to make you feel good, Kurt.”

“You did.” Blaine feels a bit of pride. _He did._

“I want to do it again,” Blaine answers. “And again and again and again, if you want to.”

“Maybe I want to.” _Maybe he wants to._

“Okay. I’ll take it.” Blaine’s eyes are crinkle-smiling and Kurt takes Blaine’s other hand. They’re staring at each other, goofy faces and dopey eyes. Blaine is happy. He wants to do it all again. In slow motion. Kurt’s about to get up but he pulls him back down. “So I propose an evening with a little less company, a lot less alcohol, candlelight dinner, sleepover?”

Kurt’s eyebrows rise in surprise but he has a glint in his eyes. “But still the naked thing?” 

“Yeah, still the naked thing.” Then Blaine leans over and whispers, not to be outdone, “And maybe a blowjob if you’ll let me this time.” Kurt’s jaw drops and he covertly looks around. They’re alone, though. Only for Kurt’s ears. Kurt is holding his hand and smiling and tempting him about being naked and Blaine feels bold. He takes the hand he’s holding, brings Kurt’s index finger to his lips. Pulls the tip into his mouth.

“Bastard.”

“I’m teasing.”

“You can’t make an offer like that then take it back.”

“Oh no. The offer still stands. No pressure. Whenever you’re ready.”  Blaine is not in a rush. He wants to savour every minute.

“I am.”

“You are?”

“Ask again.”

“Ask what again?”

“The question.” Oh. _Again?_

Blaine clears his throat.“Kurt Hummel, would you join me for an evening with a little less company, a lot less alcohol, a candlelight dinner, and a sleepover?”

“The other part too.”

“What other part?” Kurt’s cheeks suddenly redden but he is staring at him straight in the eyes. Daring. _Oh._

“And a complimentary blowjob on me?”

“I would love to.”

**v.a. (Kurt)**

**Shift**

It’s the morning after their candlelit, alcohol-free, sleepover date, when Kurt sneaks into the Broadway Bean. Blaine’s helping another customer at the coffee station, and Kurt quietly leans over the staff-less cookie counter, waiting. It’s Monday morning, 10am rush hour at the Bean, and Blaine’s shift ended two minutes ago but he’s still working. Tina, Blaine’s friend and co-barista, is about to take over for him when she sees Kurt and smiles, slightly knowingly. Kurt puts his index finger over his mouth  - “Shhh.”

“Blaine can you take that order over there?” Tina asks pokerfaced.

Blaine looks up at her, maybe annoyed but always polite, because Kurt knows he needs to get to class. “Tina, I would love to but I have combat class in like three minutes,” Kurt can hear the polite urgency in his voice.

“What does a guy have to do to get a biscotti around here?” Kurt interrupts and Blaine turns quickly in surprise, frown melting into a wide crinkly smile. 

“What kind of barista would I be if I didn’t have time for one more customer?” Blaine answers.

“Thought so.” Tina winks at him (God, so embarrassing) as she takes over the coffee station.

“Hey,” Blaine leans towards him over the cookie counter, eyes sparkling and blushing from nothing at all.

“Hey.” Kurt feels like a dopey schoolboy with a dopey crush that he never got to have in junior high. Except that his crush drinks coffee, and writes songs, and was doing unspeakable things to him two nights ago that he could not even have conceived of in junior high. And most of all, his crush likes him too. 13 year old him had too much fear to even dream.

“You’re going to be late for class,” Blaine warns  but he’s clearly pleased.

“The seasonal biscotti was calling,”  Kurt says.  “Besides, I wanted to pick up my own personal fanboy before wandering into the den of ogling NYADA students.” Also known as stage combat class.

Blaine’s the one who had come up with that, actually. After they had, _you know_ , on Saturday night - _twice_ \- a pink cheeked and giddy Blaine turned to him and sighed dramatically, “And to think that three weeks ago, I was just another combat class fanboy distracted by the star student.”

“I’m only the star student because I was trained in martial arts. Just showcasing my moves,” Kurt made ninja arms in the air, turned to Blaine on the bed.

Blaine’s index finger traced his torso. “ _And_ your body.”

“Not on purpose.”

“Oh I’m not complaining,” Blaine turned to softly kiss up his neck. “Let them look. Then I get to look too.”

“Pervert.”

“Totally.”

Kurt knows he has a good body. It took him a while to see it, and then to believe it, but when puberty hit - late but full steam - and he continued to work out, it was undeniable. At first it was his own little ‘fuck you’ to the high school world that saw him as delicate and breakable. His own secret that let him roll his eyes at anyone that underestimated him. But in New York, there’s no more fuck you. He’s always skins. That’s just the way it is.  He’s in class and the locker room and the gym, and there he is - broad and built and people notice. Guys notice. It still makes him self conscious. But also powerful. And he sort of relishes the staring even as he looks away. Beyond. They can’t have him. But Blaine can. And it’s getting used to the way Blaine looks at his body, responds to his body, his hands, his mouth, the sounds he makes. Blaine’s shameless. So into it. And he wants Kurt to hear it. And see it.

“Open your eyes, Kurt. Watch,” Blaine had whispered to him as he took him into his mouth for the second time last night. Kurt was already lying completely naked, spread out on Blaine’s bed, an equally naked Blaine all over him. It’s a lot to get used to.

“I’ll try,” He panted his response because Blaine was already focused on other things and god, blowjobs are amazing. He thought he might be too self conscious but as the feeling built, he looked down to see Blaine’s mouth open, fitted around him, and staring up at his face in wonder. He came immediately.

“Told you.” Blaine teased as Kurt turned him over to return the favour. Or at least try. Blaine said it was amazing. And anyways, you can’t fake an orgasm like that, so he figures he did okay.

Blaine takes two cranberry biscotti and puts them in a bag and hands it to Kurt. “One for each of us. Give me a minute to change.”

“We can be late together,” Kurt’s intending dry sarcasm but all that seems to come out is sweetness. He needs to get a grip.

“Ohhhh I can already hear the rumour mill starting to churn,” Tina chimes in. “Blaine, the perpetually punctual sophomore, rushing in with combat’s star freshman student by his side. What will the boys say?” She’s teasing. But Kurt huffs to himself anyways.  Blaine notices.

“Whatever they say, Kurt, I really don’t care. But we’ve only been dating a few weeks, so if you want to avoid the scrutiny - “ Kurt looks at Blaine, now apronless, in his combat class clothes - black hoodie sweatshirt over what Kurt knows is his perfectly fitted black tanktop. And he’s secretly hoping that Blaine’s green short shorts are hiding under his sweatpants. He’s not the only one with a good body. And he may have spent most of the night with his hands on Blaine’s really perfectly round ass. In the heat of it all, yes. But also when they were relaxed together in bed, talking and falling asleep. They were turned on their sides towards each other, Kurt’s hand resting just inside the elastic of Blaine’s boxer briefs. It just feels good, okay? Soft and round and anyways, Blaine likes it.  

There was a long period of time when scrutiny meant being pushed up against lockers, thrown into dumpsters, stared at by the cheerleaders. It’s not his fault he wore their sweaters better than they did. Fashion has no gender and it was always his way of quietly screaming. Defying them all so he could get here. Where somehow no matter what he wears he ends up shirtless in combat class - the epitome of action hero masculinity. And then there is Blaine who noticed him and he noticed back and it was slow and sweet until it was too much too soon and god his roommate Sam had been home (though thankfully not part of the NYADA rumour mill). Saturday night, though, it was all in slow motion. He was ready. Blaine was ready. All he wanted to do when he woke up on Monday morning was get to the Broadway Bean so he could see Blaine again and pick him up so they could go to class together.

“Do you regret it?” Kurt had asked him on Sunday morning when they woke up, the sun highlighting Blaine’s face through the crack in the curtain.

“What?”

“Sleeping with Sebastian?”

“No.” Blaine said plainly.  “I liked it. I just like it more like this,” Blaine cuddled into his side, kissing his shoulder. Kurt looked at him questioningly. “Oh you know, not much can beat being thrown roughly down on my bed by a martial arts sex god.”

“Ahhh. So that’s all it is? I never thought I’d be chosen for my body and my non-existent bedroom skills.” Kurt laughed and rolled on top of him.

“Yes, definitely,” Blaine says and Kurt answered back by pushing downwards into Blaine. Blaine moaned. Pyjama bottoms don’t leave much to the imagination. “And that might not be all.”

“No?”

“No.” Their eyes were searching each others’ in the few inches of space between them. Sparkling and happy and dark with sex and want and the possibility of the beginnings of words neither of them was about to say.

“I know.” Kurt answered.

Blaine zips up his coat and swings his brown leather bag over his shoulder, opening  the Broadway Bean door for Kurt. “I seriously get it. If you want to avoid them-”

“Actually,” Kurt walks out in front of him, squares his shoulders and holds out his hand, “I don’t.”

Nothing like the straight ‘A’ sophomore and the freshman star arriving late to class holding hands to really get the rumour mill started.

**v.b. (Blaine)**

**Layers**

Tina helps Blaine tie his bowtie as he prepares to leave the Broadway Bean for his Saturday night hopefully-sleepover date with Kurt. 

“My hands are shaking,” Blaine muses as he hands her the bowtie. 

“You’re nervous.  That’s so sweet,” Tina smiles at him, only half mocking. “It’s extra sweet because you’ve already slept together.” Tina adds unnecessarily.

“What! Tina. I never told you that. How did you even-”

“Blaine, I was at ‘Sing’ night. It didn’t take much to figure out where you two were headed as the rest of us left, abandoning Sam to blast his country music and hide.”

Blaine’s cheeks turn an annoyed shade of crimson. “It’s complicated,” He huffs, checking himself out in the Broadway Bean backroom mirror. He has specifically chosen his Thom Brown Grey Wool signature stripes cardigan for the occasion - the best find he’s ever come across at a vintage clothing store - and a grey bowtie over a yellow polo for a splash of colour. He hopes Kurt notices. 

It _is_ complicated. Because even though they had, in fact, had sex of the naked variety, and even though they both thought it was incredibly hot, this still feels a bit like their first time. Their first time making a choice, making it last, Blaine notes to himself. Because hot as it was, it definitely was, well, speedy. And slightly tipsy.

Kurt was doing his homework in the Bean yesterday, a new habit Blaine hopes is due to the excellent barista service, when Blaine approached on his break. “So candlelight dinner tomorrow evening? 7pm at my place?” They had already agreed to the date - and more - Blaine blushes at his own boldness of offering to go down on Kurt. Twice. On Kurt’s insistence. That’s one thing Sebastian had taught him - Take risks. Use words. It’s hot. 

“Oooooh,” Kurt smiled shyly. “What should I wear?”  Blaine was having the same thought. What should _he_ wear. Kurt’s fashion sense is off the charts. He needs to up his game. Not that it’s a competition, of course.

“You always look amazing,” Blaine said. “Like [that outfit you were wearing ](http://gleekto.tumblr.com/post/133926356315)when I ran into you in the library last week,” Blaine remembered. “I think it was a red button down with the black and white striped tie. But it was that white vest with the chain that made it all come together.” They’ve discovered that in addition to reality TV, they can both pour over men’s fashions magazines for hours. Equally judgemental. 

“Oh thank you,” Kurt preened. “I put that one together myself. Complete with the pocket handkerchief.”

“Well, I wouldn’t complain if you wore that tomorrow night.”

“Mmmm,” Kurt ponders and then blushes. “ I could. It just,” He bites his lip, “It just has a lot of layers.”

Blaine bites his own lip. Sex, naked, all the actual things that happened and will happen, are made so much sweeter by the crackle of anticipation. “I love your layers.”

“I do too,” Kurt closed his notebook, put it in his bag, ready to leave. “I’ll consider it.”

So if Kurt was going to dress to impress, naturally he would too. He lets Tina give him a once over and thanks her again profusely from relieving him of his Bean shift early, especially on a Saturday night. He did have to agree to take her 6am shift Monday morning, though. But for now, he’s free. And well dressed, if he does say so himself.

“Anything in the service of romance, Blaine. You’ve been waiting so long.” It’s true. They were friends when he went on his date with Sebastian. When the date quickly became ‘friends with benefits’, when Blaine realized that fun as it was, he wanted something more. And mostly, she had been around that day he had first had the courage to talk to Kurt at the cookie counter. When he had confessed to her that he may have been flirting with the combat class guy who was there with his maybe girlfriend. ( _”Did you see him, Tina? How does he do that both gentle and fierce all wrapped together in those biceps?”_ )  Tina had just looked at him and sighed dramatically, “Yes, I noticed. Blaine. And that was not his girlfriend. _Really._ ” 

Turned out that she was right.

...

It’s when Kurt takes his hand and leads him out of the Bean to class on Monday morning that he remembers. “You know, after our little conversation, you didn’t even notice my outfit on Saturday night.” 

“Yes, I did,” Kurt answers, not missing a beat. “Thom Browne Grey Woole cardigan, yellow polo,” Kurt smiles knowingly.  “You looked very handsome.”

“Wow,” Blaine shakes his head. Never underestimate Kurt Hummel. “But you didn’t say anything?”

“Yes well, I was busy being nervous about it being _off_ of you,” Kurt answers. “And, you know, my outfit equally off of me. Lack of experience and lack of alcohol make me far more aware of my imperfectly pale and freckly birthday suit, as opposed to your - or my - perfectly composed designer one.”

“It was pretty gorgeous.” Blaine agrees.

“Thanks,” Kurt elbows him in the side. “That chain was just the splash of edge I was looking for.”

“Oh that suit was gorgeous too,” Blaine whispers in his ear, “But my favorite was the one underneath.”

“Oh my god, really.” Kurt rolls his eyes.

“What? It’s true.” If he’s honest, Kurt naked even intimidates him a bit. Kurt’s broad, and defined, and strong.  He is pale. But it’s like he’s ethereal. Something in him shines. 

Kurt shakes his head, but pulls him closer as they approach the NYADA building. “Well, I must say that the yellow polo was a perfect complement to the blue of the carpet on your bedroom floor.”

“I mean why even get dressed?”

“Forego clothes altogether,” Kurt says then gasps. “Blasphemy.”

Kurt Hummel definitely likes him. 

**vi.a. (Kurt)**

**It's Time**

Kurt’s phone buzzes as he’s sitting with Rachel in the Bean, waiting for Blaine to finish his shift.  “Oh. It’s my dad. One sec...Hi dad.”

“So I was thinking, Kurt, seeing as how you’re way too busy being a star to come visit Lima - “

“Dad-”

“No, no. I’m happy about it. But I thought I’d fly into town for your winter showcase. Get to see you, and Rachel’s in it too, right? Take you two out to dinner - there’s that diner you were telling me about with the singers-”

“The Spotlight Diner.”

“Yeah that one. And if you guys have some room for an old man on your couch for a night-” Rachel nods to him from across the table. No use pretending she can’t hear every word. And she’s particularly interested when she hears her name.

“Of course, dad. Of course-”

“Who’s that?” Blaine mouths to Rachel as he pulls up a chair at their table, de-aproned and ready to go.

“His dad. He’s coming into to town for the winter showcase.”

Kurt looks up and smiles unconsciously at Blaine and then his eyes go wide. _Blaine._ “Oh dad? I actually -”

“So I’ll arrive in the morning, we watch the showcase - Sorry, Kurt. Were you saying something?”

“No, that’s okay,” _What exactly is he supposed to do right now?_  “I can’t wait to see you. Rachel’s right here. She can’t wait either.”  Kurt hangs up the phone, looks up at both of them, guilty.

“Oh that’s so great that your dad is coming to the showcase!” Rachel claps her hands, seemingly oblivious to the obvious problem.

“Yeah. Yes, it is,” Kurt agrees with less enthusiasm. He purses his lips.

“So he’s going to take us out to dinner after?” Rachel continues, looking at him and Blaine like it’s so simple. He doesn’t know what to say. Especially not with Rachel right here.

“Rachel,” Blaine starts, “I think he’s probably going to take you and Kurt out to dinner, seeing as how i don’t think Kurt’s told him yet.” God, sometimes Blaine makes it so easy. Probably too easy for him. 

“Yes, that’s true,” Kurt answers, still guilty.

“Oh well I mean Blaine will be at the winter showcase obviously, Kurt. Seeing as he composed the song for the sophomore performance-”

“And also to see you guys, of course-” Blaine adds.

“Of course,” Rachel nods in agreement. “I think meet the parents time is upon us, don’t you?” She smiles innocently. _Ugh please don’t get involved, Rachel._ “Anyways, boys, I have to run to my voice lesson. I’ll catch you both later.” She twirls dramatically before exiting. Sure just leave that one hanging for him to clean up. For some reason, Rachel is very invested in the sanctity of his relationship. She thinks she was the matchmaker. Of course she just did that on purpose. Damn slytherin.

Kurt takes a gulp of his coffee and sighs at Blaine. He knows there must be a right answer here.  “It’s not that I don’t want him to know-”

“It’s okay, Kurt. Totally fine. It’s only been a month. I’m not offended,” Blaine reassures but Kurt doesn’t totally believe him. It _has_ only been a month. A long one. With a lot of dates and time and conversations. And while sex maybe hadn’t been part of Kurt’s more naive vision of the first month of meeting someone, it is definitely something that’s happening. On the regular. He knows how Blaine feels. He knows how he feels. Even though nothing has really been discussed. It doesn’t have to be. Blaine knows his coffee order.

“I didn’t expect him to come for the showcase,” Kurt adds the euphemism for _I didn’t expect to have a meet the in-laws date so soon._

“I know, Kurt. Really, it’s okay,” Blaine looks down at the sugar packets on the table. _It is not okay._

“I want you to meet him,” Kurt says and Blaine looks up. “ I mean I want him to know.”

“You do?” Blaine’s trying for neutral. 

“Yeah. I’ve just never had a -” Kurt pauses. “You know, I’ve never had a guy to tell him about before. It’s so weird, isn’t it?”  He knows his dad would be happy for him, even guesses he’d really like Blaine. Blaine is pretty much every parent’s dream - smart, kind, polite to a fault. He even wears bowties. _And_ likes football. 

“Yes totally. Always weird. Extra weird when you’re gay.”

Kurt chuckles, “There was definitely a time when my dad was _not_ ready for me to meet someone. He’s a football-loving car mechanic. Do you know he went to see Brokeback Mountain alone just to educate himself?” Kurt laughs and shakes his head.

Blaine’s jaw drops. “Oh god. The tent.”

“I know.”

“But that is sort of amazing.”

“Yeah,” Kurt sighs. His dad is sort of amazing. “I think he actually would be really happy to meet you.” Blaine sits a little taller.

“Brokeback Mountain didn’t scar him for life?”

“No, thankfully,” Kurt sighs. “Four years later, I think he’s ready.”

“So,”Blaine asks, “are you?” He’s feigning neutrality again. Active listening only goes so far when you’re deeply invested in the result.  But Kurt appreciates it anyways.

“Are you ready for me to meet _your_ parents?” Kurt asks. It’s an honest deflection.

Blaine’s eyes cloud over but just for a second. What was that - anger? Resentment? “I wish,” Blaine shrugs.  “I can’t wait for the day when I can bring home a boyfriend. I’m just not sure my parents are ready to meet him,” Blaine bites his lip. “Meet _you_. I think your dad needs to explain to mine that fixing cars isn’t going to make me any straighter. It’s what he made me do with him last summer,” Blaine says in explanation.  “Maybe he thought the fumes would get me dizzy enough that I would sleep with a girl.”

“Ugh, I’m so sorry, Blaine.”

“It didn’t work,” Blaine advises. He’s not the only one who knows sarcasm is good armour. “Gold star gay.”  

“Yeah, I got that,” Kurt takes his hand across the table, squeezes. It’s weird to think of Blaine with a family that’s ashamed. He feels the bubbles of righteous anger rise in him, but he pushes them back down. Blaine is so proud of who he is - unafraid, enthusiastic, daring to flirt with a guy he hadn’t even met before. God, he even wears a rainbow pin on his satchel. Kurt remembers that on one particularly lonely day in high school, he went to his dad, almost broken by the frustration of not being granted the normalcy of walking down the hallways holding hands, or slow dancing at his prom, and his dad hadn’t even tried to deny it. He just said to him straight up that he’d have to wait until he met someone as brave and as open as he was. And apparently, here he is. 

Suddenly, it’s so obvious. What’s he waiting for? A right time? You’d think he would have realized by now that there’s no such thing.  “Blaine, I’m going to call my dad back.”

“Okay?” Blaine looks confused but waits as Kurt holds the phone to his ear.

“Hi, dad?” 

“Kurt, don’t tell me I can’t come now. I just booked my ticket,” Burt answers right away. 

“No, no. I still can’t wait to see you,” Kurt assures.

“Okay then, what is it?”

“So you know how you said you’d take Rachel and me out for dinner?”

“Yeah to the diner. The singing one-What’s wrong? Did it close?”

“No no,” Kurt laughs and Blaine is shaking his head. _Parents._  “We can still go there. it’s just-” Kurt takes a deep breath, “There’s someone else I’d like to bring, if it’s okay with you.” He said it. His voice is sort of shaking and it is sort of mortifying but also totally okay. And Blaine’s nervous smile across from him is definitely worth the awkwardness.

“Someone else?” Obviously he has to say it - his dad isn’t going to put the words in his mouth.

“Yeah,” Kurt looks at Blaine. “His name is Blaine. He’s a sophomore at NYADA. He’s very smart,” Blaine beams, “And musical, and dad, he even likes football-”

“Blaine,” His dad repeats and Kurt can hear the amusement in his voice. God so embarrassing. “So this musical, smart, football guy, Blaine,” His dad pauses, “He’s your boyfriend?” Burt was never one to mince words.

Kurt’s eyebrows rise but he feels Blaine hold his hand just a little bit tighter. “Yeah,” Kurt says. “He is.”

**vi.b. (Blaine)**

**Christmas Wish**

“I think meet the parents time is upon us, don’t you?”  Rachel practically sings.  _Wait what?_ Blaine just finished his shift and is about to take Kurt out to his favorite burrito haunt for lunch - coolest hole-in-the-wall in the village. It’s in a basement, just three uncomfortable metal seats at a bar. The best burritos you’ll ever have. But now they have yet to leave, still sitting at the Broadway Bean booth with Rachel, and Kurt’s dad is on his phone, apparently coming to the winter showcase next week. And instead of a simple “Great, see you then,” Rachel Berry is orchestrating a ‘Meet the Parents’ movie scene. 

 _Please don’t put pressure on him._ Much as Blaine would love to meet Burt Hummel, the dad who raised his broadway and fashion loving son by himself, who wears a pin for marriage equality in the den of his testosterone-laden mechanic shop, who apparently will fly in just for a night to see his son perform in a showcase, he wants Kurt to be comfortable. They’ve only been dating a month. 

“Anyways, boys, I have to run to my voice lesson. I’ll catch you both later.” Rachel makes her grand exit leaving Blaine alone with Kurt, who is shaking his head and twirling his stir stick in his coffee - around and around. 

Kurt takes a gulp of his coffee and sighs at Blaine. “It’s not that I don’t want him to know-”

“It’s okay, Kurt. Totally fine. It’s only been a month. I’m not offended,” Blaine reassures and wants it to be true. And it is. He’s not offended. He just would love to meet Kurt’s dad. But it doesn’t have to be next week. God,  it _has_ only been a month.  He smiles to himself despite the tension because he’s sleep deprived (no, not just from _that_. That too. But also late night phone conversations, eyelids droopy but not quite done talking), a new subscriber to Rue La La, a vastly improved combat class student (private lessons are the greatest), and an even harsher critic of America’s Next Top Model. Productive month.

“I didn’t expect him to come for the showcase,” Kurt adds the euphemism for _I didn’t expect to have a meet the in-laws date so soon._

“I know, Kurt. Really, it’s okay,” Blaine looks down at the sugar packets on the table.

“I want you to meet him,” Kurt says and Blaine looks up in surprise. _He does?_   “I mean I want him to know.”

“You do?” Blaine asks as evenly as possible.

“Yeah. I’ve just never had a -” Kurt pauses. _A boyfriend,_ Blaine thinks to himself. He knows they haven’t exactly used the word yet, but that’s what they are. A rose by any other name... “You know, I’ve never had a guy to tell him about before. It’s so weird, isn’t it?” 

“Yes totally. Always weird. Extra weird when you’re gay.” Blaine remembers the first time Cooper had brought home a girlfriend from college. It was a lot of responsibility for 12 year old him to try to steer the conversation away from awkward questions about her being Jewish. His mom was well intentioned but naive - _So chanukah is the Jewish Christmas right? You must have a beautiful chanukah bush?._ His dad was just dismissive.  _“So you don’t go to church?”_ Cooper was seething and all Blaine could think of as common ground was delicious ways of making potatoes - _rosti, latkes, mashed, baked - Let’s share recipes!_ What a disaster. But that was probably due more to his parents than to the girlfriend. He can only imagine what they might say to his boyfriend. He can almost picture his dad and Kurt in the famous dialogue from Angels in America -  _“In my church, we don’t believe in homosexuals.” “Oh that’s no problem, Mr. Anderson. Because in my church, we don’t believe in Bigots.”_ That would be kind of glorious.

Kurt chuckles, “There was definitely a time when my dad was _not_ ready for me to meet someone. He’s a football-loving car mechanic. Do you know he went to see Brokeback Mountain alone just to educate himself?” Kurt laughs and shakes his head.

Blaine’s jaw drops. “Oh god. The tent.” His face flushes pleasantly at the memory. Which is only slightly different than what he and Kurt were doing last night. In Kurt’s bedroom, not a tent. And it was real. Which is even better.

“I know.” Maybe Kurt’s having the same memory.

“But that is sort of amazing.” Because his parents definitely did not go see Brokeback Mountain. And that’s why he wants to meet Kurt’s dad. Awkward gay sex scenes notwithstanding. From the way Kurt talks, he’s pretty sure he and Kurt could rent ‘Priscilla Queen of the Desert’ and the three would have a gay old time together. Even if Burt would mock their music choices. In all his many years out and gay, he has yet to see a drag queen do John Mellencamp. 

“Yeah,” Kurt sighs. “I think he actually would be really happy to meet you.” Blaine sits a little taller.

“Brokeback Mountain didn’t scar him for life?”

“No, thankfully,” Kurt sighs. “Four years later, I think he’s ready.”

“So,”Blaine asks really the only question that matters, “Are you?” He’s trying really hard to appear non-chalant. 

“Are you ready for me to meet _your_ parents?” Kurt asks. _Oh_. 

Blaine’s eyes cloud over but he recovers quickly. “I wish,” Blaine shrugs.  “I can’t wait for the day when I can bring home a boyfriend. I’m just not sure my parents are ready to meet him,” Blaine bites his lip. “Meet _you_. I think your dad needs to explain to mine that fixing cars isn’t going to make me any straighter. It’s what he made me do with him last summer,” Blaine says in explanation. “Maybe he thought the fumes would get me dizzy enough that I would sleep with a girl.” He really doesn’t know what his dad was thinking with his little father-son bonding time project last summer. Between Blaine’s performance shifts at Six Flags, of course. He played Danny Zuko in their Grease medley. He was fabulous. 

“Ugh, I’m so sorry, Blaine.”

“It didn’t work,” Blaine advises, enjoying the conspiratory sarcasm. “Gold star gay.”  Blaine wiggles his eyebrows and flashes his rainbow pin that he keeps on his satchel. That’s the irony of him having such a clueless parent. Blaine is proud to be gay. He always has been since he flushed hot at Justin Timberlake shirtless on the cover of Rolling Stone way back in third grade. Sure as he believed his teachers, his choir leaders, his drama coach when they’d see him perform -  _‘You’re a star, Blaine. You’re going to shine’,_  he knew that this was part of him too.  He’s wanted it since he was 15 and he’d had to deflect his female friends from crushing on him -  _‘I like you too. Just not like that.’_ Attraction, sex, love. As intuitive to him as music. He would never be ashamed. 

“Yeah, I got that,” Kurt takes his hand across the table, squeezes. And now he has it. He squeezes back. “Blaine, I’m going to call my dad back.”

“Okay?” Blaine looks confused but waits as Kurt holds the phone to his ear.

“Hi, dad?”

“Kurt, don’t tell me I can’t come now. I just booked my ticket,” Blaine can hear Burt’s parental warning.

“No, no. I still can’t wait to see you,” Kurt assures.

“Okay then, what is it?”

“So you know how you said you’d take Rachel and me out for dinner?”

“Yeah to the diner. The singing one-What’s wrong? Did it close?”

“No no,” Kurt laughs and Blaine is shaking his head. _Parents._ “We can still go there. it’s just-” Kurt takes a deep breath, “There’s someone else I’d like to bring, if it’s okay with you.” Kurt said it. Blaine is going to meet his dad. Ugh and he can’t keep the smile from spreading across what is supposed to be his neutral supportive face.

“Someone else?” 

“Yeah,” Kurt looks at him. “His name is Blaine. He’s a sophomore at NYADA. He’s very smart,” Blaine beams, “And musical, and dad, he even likes football-”

“Blaine,” Kurt’s dad repeats and Kurt’s cheeks pinken. “So this musical, smart, football guy, Blaine,” His dad pauses, “He’s your boyfriend?” Oh god. 

Kurt’s eyebrows rise but Blaine holds his hand just a little bit tighter. “Yeah,” Kurt says. “He is.”

 _He is._ A rose is a rose is a rose.

**vii.**

**Yesterday's Gone**

Kurt and Blaine had made one last stop at the Broadway Bean on their way to the airport - to pick up two bags of coffee beans. “No way I’m surviving on the flavoured water they call coffee in Lima,” Blaine pronounced as he handed Kurt his own bag of Christmas Blend. 

This holiday would be different. Cooper would be home, relieving Blaine of some of the family tension, at least. His grades are good, he has a job, he’s not asking for anything - just egg nog and his mom’s gourmet cooking. And frankly, at least for the next week, Lima has something that New York doesn’t - Kurt. 

As he serves his parents and Cooper imported coffee and Broadway Bean biscotti after a relatively pleasant dinner of his mom’s Martha Stewart original roast chicken, Blaine braces himself but says it. “Mom, dad, the day after Christmas, I’m going to be spending some time at my boyfriend’s house. Kurt’s. Kurt Hummel.” 

The silence is palpable but fortunately immediately broken by a jubilant Cooper who claps his hands and moves to high five Blaine. “It’s about time, little brother! Gettin’ some -” Blaine glares at him because really, Cooper?  _‘Gettin’ some.’_  Though he appreciates the support. Sort of.

“No. I mean, it’s not like that.” _At least not all the time._ “We’ve been together for a while. Anyways,” Blaine can see his dad is about to cut him off. “I’m going to be spending some time at his house.”

“Exactly how much time?” His dad asks, stoic.

“Two nights.” More silence. His dad grunts. 

“Do you really think it’s approp-”

“I’m not asking permission, actually, dad. You always tell me that I’m an adult now, right?” Taste of his own medicine. “I just wanted to let you know.” Blaine’s voice is shaking but his eyes are steady. Because sometimes you need to accept that your parents are never going to change. And that neither are you.

Later on that evening as they’re doing the dishes, Cooper whispers into Blaine’s ear, “Look at that, little brother. You’re all grown up.” Blaine turns and smiles at him, hands soaking in the sudsy sink. It’s a rare moment of fraternal affection until Cooper of course, adds, “ _Gettin’ some,_ ” He practically skips away.

...

Kurt manages to survive the filling, full-fat version roast beef and potatoes Christmas dinner with his dad and stepmom, filled with sometimes awkward but always loving questions about his suddenly exciting love life - “Oh Burt tells me he’s a real gentleman!” Carole coos. 

“Wears bowties!” Burt slaps the table. “Most old fashioned 20 year old I’ve ever met,” Burt laughs. 

“He only does it because he can pull it off. Classic good looks,” Kurt defends, showing Carole pictures on his phone. And she agrees.  As she brings out his favorite raspberry cheesecake with tea and Blaine’s last minute stocking stuffer of Broadway Bean biscotti for the whole family,  Kurt knows it’s time to ask. His dad is reasonable and happy for him and likes Blaine. But still, this is almost Brokeback tent territory. “Dad, I would like to propose that Blaine stay over here while you and Carole are away the next two days.” Cat’s out of the bag. 

“Over here? Like at our house? The whole time?” Burt’s eyebrows rise and Carole purses her lips. He knows Carole’s on his side but this is his dad’s decision. They wait. Kurt nods. _Yes, the whole time._

“Before you say anything, I’m an adult, dad. I have my own apartment with Rachel in New York. I cook my own meals, I’m a good student. I’m responsible. It’s not inappropriate for me to do,” Kurt pauses and wishes there wasn’t a double entendre,  “adult things.”

“Like sleepovers,” His dad huffs, seemingly weighing his options.

“Like sleepovers.” Kurt answers, shoulders squared. The pause feels like minutes.

Burt clasps his hands on the table and stares at him straight in the eyes. “You promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

“Dad,” Kurt relaxes. “You’ve met Blaine, right?”

“And that you’ll be safe?” 

Kurt blushes but answers honestly, “Always, dad. Always.”

Suddenly Lima is no longer the armpit of the universe. At least not for the next two days.

...

Blaine ties up the condom, tosses it into the trash can by Kurt’s childhood but fortunately queen size bed. They’re doing _that_ now. It’s something Kurt actually never thought he’d do. The combination of ‘ick’ factor of the young and less dirty than he apparently is now, and the ways it was used to shame him - _sissy, bottom, take it up the a**._ Clearly his bullies didn’t know about riding, he muses to himself. He’s totally in control, and Blaine is the hot mess. Turns out, they both love it that way. 

It didn’t happen instantly, anyways. Blaine had been working him up to it, gentle fingers tracing softly on the surface at first. They were facing each other, naked and relaxed when Blaine had dared to let his fingers travel between the globes of his ass, and shushed him sweetly when he tensed up. “I promise you, I’ll stop if you tell me to. But if you want, close your eyes. Let me make you feel good. Yes, _here_.” Blaine touched him lightly.

Curiosity got his better judgement, apparently. “Okay.” He closed his eyes and Blaine’s hand disappeared and he heard the pop of the bottle of well used lubricant. Then his legs were gently pushed apart - one knee up, one down, and he could feel Blaine’s now cool and wet finger start to circle him, teasing. Blaine went so slowly, tracing and kissing his balls, the insides of his thighs. He was already such a hard and panting mess, that he barely noticed as Blaine’s finger slipped in. Blaine giggled in wonder. “That’s it, Kurt. You’re doing it. You look amazing.” 

Kurt opened one eye at that, so far gone and desperate to come as Blaine’s finger moved slowly in and out, he couldn’t help the sass “You’re fawning over your finger in my ass.”

Blaine laughed but his eyes were dark. “Yeah.  My finger in your ass.” He came all over Blaine.

Blaine rolls back towards him, big spooning him, loose and relaxed after sex. It’s 11am, it’s cold outside, and they have nowhere to be. Bliss. “So how did you convince your dad to let me stay here, anyways?”

“Actually, believe it or not, I just asked.” Kurt turns his head to look up at Blaine. “Or, more like, I persuasively stated my case,” Kurt states proudly. “I’m an adult. I live on my own-”

Blaine nods, “In other words,  we do this anyways. Time to acknowledge the elephant in the room.”

“Basically,” Kurt sighs. “He agreed, actually. It was pretty painless. But then he did ask me if we’d be safe-” Kurt cringes just thinking about it.

“Euphemism?”

“Mmmm,” Kurt agrees.  “I think the bigger question is how _you_ managed to convince _your_ parents to let you come. Wait-” Kurt stops Blaine before he can start, “I’ve got it. You said it was boys’ night. _Hey dad, we’re just gonna order pizza, watch some football,  fix some cars, check out the women in the latest mags_ -”

“And oh my god, what _were_ they wearing on that Vogue cover?” Blaine chimes in without missing a beat.

“Oh my god, I know. Stripes are a troublesome trend.” Kurt deadpans then turns over to face Blaine, giggling nose to nose. 

“No, actually,” Blaine answers.  “I didn’t really ask-”

“Please don’t tell me they think you’re at Wes’.”

“No. They know I’m here. I just told them. Cooper was a welcome distraction. Especially because he thought it was awesome that I was,” Blaine makes air quotes, “Gettin’ some.”

“Oh god. What did your dad do?”

“Nothing. I told him I wasn’t asking.”

“Just advising?” Blaine nods, shrugging. “I don’t think I could do it - stand up to them like that,” Kurt traces Blaine’s face with his index finger and Blaine’s eyes crinkle smile into the touch.

“I’m sure I couldn’t have before.”

“Before what?”

Blaine looks at him sheepishly. “ _I was never insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched,_ ” Blaine quotes.

“Edgar Allan Poe? I’m impressed,” Kurt nods appreciatively. Brains are very attractive. “Love makes us all crazy,” Kurt translates then blushes hot.

Blaine wraps his arms around him, breathes him in, “Pretty much.”


End file.
